“What is it, child?”
“It is dated only two days before he died.”
“Read it aloud.”
As Cicely obeyed, the mother covered her face with her hand. Cicely’s voice faltered and broke more than once, but she read on and on till almost the end.
“ ‘My dear old Grimmer,—I shall be over the top in a few hours, and mayn’t come back. In the old days you tried to make me think. I’ve had to do it out here. If there isn’t a purpose behind all this slaughter, one must come out of it. I see now it’s up to us to do what we can, not only at the Front, but where our men come from. They deserve it. By God! they do. I know at long last that I was wrong not to back you up about our village. I sided with my mother. She’s the dearest thing, but however beautiful the past may be, we can’t live in it. And she does. If Upworthy ever comes to me, I’ll do what you want, if it costs me my last bob. I should like to see England come out of this splendid all through. It might be so, and it isn’t. If things go wrong, tell my mother this some day, but not yet, because she isn’t ripe for it. If I know her, she’ll try to do something for me that I can’t do for myself. She always did. There’s one more thing heavy on my mind——’ ”
Cicely paused.
“Go on!”
The command was almost inaudible. Cicely read on:
“ ‘It’s about Cis. I put a spoke in your wheel because I shared Mother’s ideas about suitable matches, and all that. Now, whether I win through or not, I hope that you and she will come together. Bless you both!’ ”
Silently, Grimshaw moved to the window and stood with his back to the two women. He could see the trim lawn, once more in order. The gap through which the excited villagers had burst their way was still open. He heard Lady Selina’s voice: